Family Man
by Faithfulpurelight
Summary: "What do you mean? Being insane is a qualifier for being a Wrecker."


Just a quick little something that I couldn't let go of, and had to write. Thanks to E, for telling me that my fears were stupid. And to Ajremix for giving me permission to base some of this off of the world she has created. And to my friend Amy for giving me the song.

Family Man is copyrighted to Craig Campbell  
>Silverbolt and Springer are owned by Hasbro, as Transformers.<p>

**Family Man:**

It was rare for the Wreckers to be at the Orbital Hub for more then the few cycles it took to refill and restock Xantium, given how many battles they needed to help turn the tide of. It was even rarer for one of the Wreckers to be alone, given how close-knit the group of them were. It was a well known fact, Wreckers were happiest when destroying something, or someone, or causing mayhem. It was what they did best, from their demolitions, to their recon, to their medic, to even include their leader. So the fact that Springer sat in the mess hall, without being surrounded by a group of Wreckers, or his other friends, Hot Rod and Arcee, was a moment to be appreciated.

If it was rare for the Wreckers to be at the Hub, it was even rarer for the Aerialbots to be. The Aerialbots were the only jets that the Autobots really had, and so they were placed where they would be of most use. That was, wherever the Decepticon Seekers were, they were either already there, or following close behind. And if the Wreckers were considered a close-knit bunch of mechs, the flyboys were a bunch of clingy little buggers. That was part of being a gestalt combiner team; the members of said team needed each other around most all the time.

So when Silverbolt, leader of said combiner team, sat down next to Springer, leader of said Wrecker team, with two cubes of energon in his possession and passed one over to the green mech, it was nothing short of a miracle. The two nodded to each other, Springer in gratitude, Silverbolt out of respect, and there was a long period of silence as the two sipped from the cubes, only broken by the occasional whirling of internal components.

"So where are yours?" Silverbolt finally asked, taking another sip of the warm energon.

"Causing trouble somewhere on the Hub," came the response.

"As usual?"

"As usual," the Commander of the Wreckers confirmed. "How did you escape yours?"

"They're in recharge at the moment. They needed it," Silverbolt sighed heavily. "We've been run ragged recently, with all the trouble the Seekers have been causing."

"Yeah, sorry to hear that Megatron let Starscream out of his berth," Springer gave an easy grin, despite the fact that his own frame had obviously recently seen a bad battle, and he had only been patched by Topspin not long ago.

Silverbolt could easily see why the Wreckers chose to follow the mech, and listen to every order given, no matter how deadly or insane. He was powerful, charismatic, and a good 'bot who tried to look out for everyone on his team, no matter what it cost him. He hoped his team saw the same things in him, and that he too, would never fail them.

"Unfortunate, but unavoidable at times," shrugged the jet in turn. "This is war, and Starscream is a capable leader. He's the only one the Seekers will listen to. Megatron has to let him do his job if he wants to win the skies."

"Yeah, but leaving him chained in his berth lets us escape that vocalizer of his. I'm sure the screams echoing from those chambers are a much better use of his voice then annoying the slag out of us," Springer grinned as Silverbolt snorted into his energon cube.

He looked up at the Wrecker, unable to stop himself from smiling in return, despite the long battle he had only come from a few cycles ago, and the low amount of recharge he was forcing himself to run on. His team was far more important to him, and if his going without made their lives a little easier, he would go until his spark stopped. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his team, for his brothers.

Most of the other Autobots didn't understand the concept. Most of the other Autobots were afraid to get close to someone else, because they had lost someone already in this war, had lost someone close to them again, and again, until the aching in their sparks was almost impossible to bear, until they pulled away from everyone else to protect themselves from that pain.

The Aerialbots didn't know that pain, perhaps because they had been alone before they found each other. Perhaps it was because without one of them, the rest of them literally could not function any longer. It took five to combine into Superion, and they were not replaceable. Their abilities depended on their bond, and their bond was unbreakable for that very reason. Very few Autobots could understand a love like that.

But Springer could, Silverbolt realized with a jolt. Springer's team needed to trust each other absolutely in order to do their jobs, like many of the other Autobots. They lived together, like many of the other Autobots. But they had allowed themselves to become a family, despite the danger of their jobs, despite that they might die on any mission, give how dangerous the missions the Wreckers took on tended to be. Springer had watched good 'bots under his command not come home from battle, had seen the names under him change, and still let himself get close to those he commanded.

How he did it, Silverbolt could not begin to guess. To lose one of his brothers would kill him, would forever stop his spark from beating again.

"I don't know how you do it," he murmured. "I don't know how you can keep going, how being a Wrecker doesn't drive you insane with all the death, the destruction, the carnage, the pain that goes along with it."

"What do you mean? Being insane is a qualifier for being a Wrecker." Springer grinned for a moment before he sighed, the grin slowly slipping away to be replaced by a pensive look. He was silent for a long time, his optics faraway as his processor brought every Wrecker's name to the forefront, both current and past, both dead and alive. "Well, how do you do it?" he finally said, optics focusing on the Aerialbot.

"I don't," was Silverbolt's automatic response.

"Don't you?" Springer asked, optics boring into him. "Don't you send your men into every fight, knowing they might be injured? Knowing that the Seekers might be just that bit better that battle, that someone might be captured, or killed. Don't you do the same thing I do?"

"I . . . guess I do," Silverbolt admitted slowly. "But I . . . I know that without them, I would die. They are my world, my family. I do what I do for them, so that we have a better world to live in. I do it because Slingshot should know that he's not such a bad guy, because Air Raid should be able to goof off and not worry about anything other then videogames and keeping Flight happy. Fireflight . . . well there's a lot Fireflight should get that he just doesn't, that we can't fix. But he should be able to see the beauty in the world and not see the ugly too. And Dive . . ." there was another long pause. "I want to be able to give Skydive so much more then I can. A library full of all kinds of books, the ability to fly without worrying about being shot down, to fly not for business but for the pure enjoyment of it. The pure enjoyment they all have when they fly. I can't give that to them, and sometimes it kills me.

"But there's more. You're right, in some ways. But in others, you are so very wrong. I send them into battle, but I do it knowing that I won't come out of it if they don't. When we go, it will be all of us. I do it for all the moments outside of battle, for the ability to give them a hug when they're down, energon when they're hungry, to see those brilliant smiles when something goes right, when something makes them light up in ways that I can't even imagine, but makes my spark melt. For . . . the moments I get to lose myself in Dive's optics, and nothing else in this world or the next matters.

"But I know if they die, I die. You have seen your mechs die and yet . . ." Silverbolt trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. Springer knew a pain he could never know, never wanted to know. He couldn't imagine the pain that the Wreckers went through losing one of their own, and still giving the next guy a chance. Why would someone put themselves through that?

"But I still get close to them?" Springer supplied, his voice soft with remembered pain.

Silverbolt nodded mutely, his vocalizer too tight to speak.

"Every once and a while I catch myself wondering exactly that. Roadbuster thinks that it's just the kind of mech I am, that I have to get to know those under my command, get close to them, and he's right, I do. But it isn't just that. I fight hard on the battlefield for all mechs, but when protecting the team, we all go a little . . . berserk."

Silverbolt had seen the Wreckers on the field once or twice. He thought they were berserk all the time when they fought, not just for their teammates.

"I don't think myself above any other mech. I am not better then anyone else, any commander, any warrior. I am nothing, without my team. I cannot manage half the feats I pull, I cannot believe in what I believe in as strongly as I do, without them, just like you with your 'bots. In that, we are the same. I try to come back from battle for them; I will not leave without all of them, or without their body, if that is all I can bring home. I am the last to fall, whether it's in battle or into the arms of fellow Autobots. Any medic, be it Ratchet, or Topspin, or slag, even First Aid, will tend to my team before me, no matter how injured I am in comparison. I will never admit I need to leave the field of battle if any member of my team is still fighting. They've had to forcibly remove me before.

"They are what I fight for. I may lose a mech here and there, and I mourn, and I feel that pain. I will feel the pain of each death until I am gone, until my processor and spark no longer function. But I have mechs that still need me, a job that still needs to be done. I will never stop fighting, never stop caring, and never stop trying to avenge each death. They are my world, my strength and belief, the reason I push on. They are my family, just as the Aerialbots are yours. And in the end, what wouldn't we do for our family?"

In the end, Silverbolt realized, he and Springer weren't so different after all. The Aerialbots and the Wreckers were their family, and they both worried about them. They worried about making the wrong decision, about getting someone they loved injured, captured, or killed. It was the weight of being a leader, a commander. It was the price they paid for being part of a family, and yet, they would not change it for the world, or anything that it could offer.

"Does it scare you though? That you could send someone to their deaths with one order?" Silverbolt asked after a long period of silence.

"Every time I give an order," Springer murmured, looking into his cube.

"Yeah, me too."


End file.
